Along with the garden pond that I often mention, which is really merely a pseudo pond, we also have a couple of real ones. The largest is up in the cow pasture and another is tucked away in the corner of the old horse pasture. That field has rather grown up to brush since the old horses died, but it is still nice up there.

Today I trawled my way through the burrs and goldenrod looking for wood to heat water for showers. When I made it to the pond I found myself wishing for a seat from which to enjoy the tranquil quiet there, while resting up from wood pursuit. Although the day was warm and fine, the grass was soggy from last week's snow and not very inviting.

I thought that I might climb up in Alan's tree stand and sit there for a bit, but then I saw my old mounting block. The block began life as half of a steel barrel that was used for watering heifers and then morphed into a handy object with which I gained enough elevation to get up on Magnum's back. That was after I closed the gate that separates us from the neighbor with whom I used to ride regularly when I was younger and still had the old boy. I had many a fine adventure after I made the transition from standing on that barrel to sitting knee locked on those strong black shoulders. I sure miss the old guy.

He is buried under an apple tree not too far from that gate now, so I rolled the barrel under the gate and across the field to the pond side. It was heavy, but worth it, as I now have a nice spot to sit and watch the clouds roll by and listen to the birds. If a cat's paw of wind plays with the water as it passes it is just an added bonus for my secret entertainment